“But isn’t that the problem?” said Corvus, finishing another of the beers he should’ve been delivering. “No one gives a fig these days for anyone else but themselves.”
“The real problem, “said Hercules, “is that you’re probably too drunk to be driving.”
“Crap! If I don’t get this stuff back like two hours ago, I’m fucked.”
“Let me think . . . how about I punch you in the face a few times, and you can say someone jumped you while you were loading up?”
“Or . . . ?”
“Plan B is always the same,” said Hercules. “Just do your best and tell the truth.”
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